


Going Nowhere

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: October 2020 writing challenge [18]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27267496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: Illya knows better than anyone about despising a stay in Medical, but even he knows when to insist on Napoleon staying there, in spite of his protests.
Relationships: Illya Kuryakin & Napoleon Solo
Series: October 2020 writing challenge [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981039
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Going Nowhere

“Don’t even think about it,” Illya said, his eyes not even leaving his book as Napoleon had moved to get out of his bed. As always, Napoleon hated staying in Medical with a burning passion, and, as always, he tried to appeal to the staff to let him go by demonstrating that he was the picture of perfect health, even when he wasn’t.

Illya had been seated in the chair beside his bed, where he’d been ever since bringing Napoleon in. He’d been given yet another experimental THRUSH serum—this one was supposed to have been a truth serum. All it succeeded in doing was throwing off Napoleon’s equilibrium, making him “walk like a drunken imbecile,” as Victor Marton had described in his call to Waverly in order to inform him to pick his missing agent up.

Illya had arrived soon after and had rescued Napoleon to take him to Medical. The staff hadn’t found anything deadly in the serum; at this point, it was just a matter of how long it would take for Napoleon’s equilibrium to return to normal. Though dizzy as all get-out, Napoleon was in otherwise perfect control of his mental faculties and had tried to bargain for a release to recover at home, under Illya’s care, but he’d blown it by stumbling right into the wall in his attempt to get up and speak with the doctor, and the doctor had insisted that Napoleon recuperate where he could keep an eye on him and monitor his progress.

That hadn’t stopped Napoleon from wanting to try to prove again that he could handle things just fine at home, and after a second attempt had sent him crashing into Illya, Illya had put his foot down and insisted that he stay here, as well. Napoleon had clearly been considering a third attempt at walking—which Illya had just thwarted.

“This is intolerable,” Napoleon declared. “Me, the CEA of U.N.C.L.E., held captive, against my will.”

“Your flair for the dramatic will not sway me this time, as valiant an effort as it may be,” Illya declared.

“ _Et tu_ , Partner Mine?”

“But of course,” Illya said. “I happen to have some amount of medical knowledge, but, as I am not a specialist in the inner ear, I shall defer judgment to the doctor here.”

“Something not even Illya Kuryakin can do?” Napoleon asked, in mock shock. “Perish the thought!”

“My medical expertise is in pathology; I don’t need to know about dizziness, as I have not yet had a corpse get up from my table and attempt to walk.” He made a face. “And I should like to keep it that way.”

“Well, I’m all for that, too,” Napoleon quipped. “But that has nothing to do with my situation here.”

“I know you despise this, Napoleon—no one else knows better about staying in the purgatory of Medical than I do,” Illya admitted. “But as long as you have been subjected to an unknown drug, I should prefer that you been close to a doctor in the event of some reaction. Granted, it doesn’t seem likely by this point, but I, for one, have no desire to take chances with your health—and I say that not as a pathologist, but as your partner.”

“…I’m all set to be steaming mad, and you have to go and say something deep and emotional like that?” Napoleon asked. “That’s not even your style!”

“I learned from the best,” Illya said, with a smirk.

“…I see. I brought this upon myself, then?”

“You certainly did.”

Napoleon grumbled and laid back in his pillow, staring at the ceiling until his vertigo caused him to shut his eyes so he didn’t have to focus on things spinning.

He concentrated, listening to Illya’s calm and steady breathing.

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing…” he said.

“Hmm?” Illya asked.

“If I have to be stuck here, thanks for keeping me company, at least.”

Even though his eyes were closed, Napoleon could picture the wan smile forming on Illya’s face.

“Just as you have done for me, countless times,” Illya said. “Whether at home or here in Medical, Napoleon, I am here for you.”

Napoleon nodded. He knew that, of course—and he was grateful for it.


End file.
